An Actual French Mistake
by Capt Winchester of House Tully
Summary: When Sam and Dean are once again pulled through time by the Angels, neither of them know exactly what to do when they are accosted by two men on horse back.
1. Chapter 1

"So you're sure this is what you saw in your vision Sammy?" Dean gently opened a rusting metal door to the abandoned warehouse. "There's nothing here dude."  
>Sam rubbed at his forehead again and tried to massage the horrific pain away. "Definitely. There were three children chained to a post. It was awful Dean. I haven't had a vision for years." They raised their pistols as they entered in preparation for whatever was to happen.<p>

A light came on in the centre of the warehouse and shone a circle of light around a small table and chair with a man sitting down holding a cup with steam coming off the top. It looked like cheap patio furniture.  
>The man spoke "I do apologize for the deception boys but I couldn't resist putting the fear of...well I don't want to say God...into you. Care for a cup of tea?" Balthazar flicked his wrist and two more chairs appeared.<br>Dean charged forward "You son of a bitch!" Another flick of the wrist landed Dean, unwillingly, into a chair on the other side of the table. Sam slowly walked up to the table, returning the fire arm to its place in the waist band of his jeans.

"Now, really, boys is that any way to greet an old friend?" He opened his arms out questioningly.  
>Dean was about to shout something but thought better of it. Sam spoke instead "You almost killed us. Twice."<br>The angel looked offended. "I take no responsibility for the actions of my brothers or those of demons. I just HAPPENED to instigate a few situations is all."  
>"You sent us to a parallel universe without warning or weapons." Sam stated flatly.<br>Balthazar smiled "Ah, but I never directly hurt you." Silence. "Well if you won't accept a cup of tea our arrangement will simply be agreed. Enjoy the trip."

Sam and Dean shared a confused look, Dean saying "Wait a minute you..." Before he could finish his sentence, Balthazar had placed his middle and index fingers upon the brother's foreheads. They'd experienced the sensation before when Cas had propelled them back to the 80's.

This time they found themselves on a dirt track in the middle of a forest. There was a smell in the air, like when a storm has just finished and then sun has come back. The muddy floor and dripping water from the leaves supported the idea. "Fracking Angels!" Dean yelled, kicking at a collection of damp leaves. "Where the hell are we?" He looked to Sam who simply shrugged.

The two set off down the trodden mud path in the hopes of finding some indication of civilization. "It's a horse track." Sam said, but sighed when he saw Deans 'What are you talking about?' expression. "The tracks. On the ground." Another sigh. "Dads training clearly paid off. This pathway has been used by people on horseback...Dude, dad spent years training us."

They carried on walking for almost an hour until they saw a steady stream of smoke coming up from beyond a line of trees. "Looks like a chimney to me." Sam said. The duo were just over one hundred meters from the tree line when the men came galloping from up behind them. There were two of them. One, a dark man with a thick but short black beard. His hair was curly, the same jet black of that on his face. The other was slightly taller but a thinner man who had a fair complexion. His hair was almost shoulder length and a chestnut brown that matched his styled and trimmed beard. Both wore a uniform of some kind. Though details varied between them, both wore a boiled leather over-shirt with a shoulder sleeve connected that showed a fleur de lis.

The dark man spoke first. "In the name of his royal majesty (along with various other titles), King Louis, we arrest you for suspicion of witchcraft. Personally, I couldn't give a stuff what you did, just don't make my life difficult please." He glanced at his companion and they smiled.

Dean, in a fit of rage made a lunge for the man who had spoken. Unused to a mounted enemy, he didn't do particularly well and was unconscious in a moments glance. The large man was as strong as he looked. Sam rushed to his brother's side and hefted him over his shoulders as the riders trotted up to either side of him.


	2. Chapter 2

After they had confiscated anything that could have been used as a weapon, they signalled for Sam to start walking. "So, what year is it?" Sam asked, fidgeting under the pie-induced weight of his brother. The bizarre question made the slim rider chuckle and a simple look of exasperation from the other. "No, seriously, when and where are we?"

Porthos, the muscular man, looked away in annoyance but the other smiled at the chance to indulge them in, what he believed to be, their own little fantasy. "I, my good sirs, am Aramis of the Kings Musketeers. It is the year 1630 and you are in the beautiful country side of île De France. You will be held in the Village de la Maudite which is just over this hill. We, me and my conversational colleague Porthos here, will keep you under watch until the Red Guard come for you. Then you are the Cardinals problem."

The rest of the journey continued in silence until they reached a small town. Town may have been a generous term for the collection of buildings that lay before them. What could have one point been a Smith stood at the outskirts of the town as they walked in. The doors were a black charred mess of planks and ash that lay in front of the entrance. A few houses still had smoke coming from the chimneys signifying that they still had some inhabitants but others stood empty with cracked windows and some of the thatch from the roofs had fallen to the well-trodden paths outside.

"Sorry," Sam said as they were pushed to the centre of town "But who did you say wants us?"

Porthos sighed again and turned away. Aramis was again the one to speak. "The Cardinal. Black robes? Strange hat? No?" A quizzical look came across his face as he saw the genuine look of confusion on Sam's face. "Well, I anticipated an uncomfortable situation when he passes sentence on you."

Sam looked at his feet and, after shifting Dean into a more comfortable position, he said "Wait, we only just got here. How can anyone here know that we were coming?"

"The King received reports of a coven of witches plotting his assassination and the Cardinal gave him the location we found you as their meeting ground. He told us you would be wearing odd clothes and carrying magical weapons. That blade was all the proof we need." He signalled to the Kurdish blade that was now attached to Porthos' saddle.

Sam looked away, mind racing. What was he going to do? 1630. Musketeers. Why did their names seem so… _No. No way is this real. The three musketeers. Balthazar, you son of a bitch. _Whilst Sam tried to think about the rest of the stories from his childhood in school, Aramis had begun to complain to Porthos. "I just don't understand you is all. You're such a nice man when no one else is around."

Porthos growled slightly "Why would you bring this up in front of prisoners?" Aramis looked hurt. "We'll talk about it back at the barracks alright?"

Aramis perked up at this and dismounted outside a building with three stocks outside. One was so rotten that had Sam been locked in it, he would have quite easily broken out of it. However, that was not his fate. The two musketeers marched Sammy and a still unconscious Dean into the building. The interior was as dreary as the rest of the sights around. The floor was bare earth with a little straw scattered across the open floor building. Iron bars ran from floor to ceiling to corner of two cells on one side and a table with two chairs.

Sam walked straight to the cell nearest the door and cleared some space to lie Dean down. He took of his jacket and made it into a pillow for his injured brother. He started to think how peaceful he looked like this but then a little drool started to drip down the side of his cheek.

Porthos locked the cell and went to sit at the table. As he did so, he rotated his shoulder as if trying to stretch out a pain. "Is your shoulder still giving you pain my friend?" Aramis asked kindly to which Porthos nodded. "I've told you, you MUST be more careful in training, Athos has a very strong lunge." He ran a hand under his companions Fleur de Lis and began to massage the muscles. The tension in Porthos' upper body visibly disappeared as Aramis worked his own kind of magic.

Sam didn't want to interrupt but felt a little uncomfortable just watching. "You mentioned Athos, you have another man in your unit don't you? Dartanya?"

Aramis' hand returned to his side and rested on the hilt of his rapier. "D'Artagnan. How did you know that?"

Before Sam could reply with the truth, a commotion could be heard starting outside.


End file.
